


Earlier Plans

by Shush7



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, yes this is very much Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shush7/pseuds/Shush7
Summary: "Were you ever really mine, though? In my memories you are – I know because I always ask you and you call me a fool for even asking, then kiss me and promise me you’ll always be mine. I already let you slip away in this life, you see; I can’t lose you in my dreams, too."Aka it's 2026 and Timmy is getting married. Armie writes him a letter.





	Earlier Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Long time no see! *hides in Writer Shame*
> 
> I'm in the midst of trying to handle Real Life and beat Writer's Block away with a stick, which is why I haven't posted any updates in ages. My apologies for that. I was going through my old drafts and discovered this little thing I'd written ages ago (sometime in 2018!). So, I decided to clean it up a bit (only a bit, though) and post it.
> 
> This is pure fiction and not inspired by any real life events. My angst juices were clearly flowing when I wrote it (ugh why does that sound so disgusting), so please read at your own discretion (and please be kind even if you don't like the subject matter).
> 
> PS. I had no specific woman in mind for this piece and Timmy wasn't (publicly) dating anyone at the time I wrote it, so feel free to imagine whomever (or no-one).

**<Armie Hammer> ** [ **armiehammer@gmail.com** ](mailto:armiehammer@gmail.com)

**<DRAFT: Timmy’s wedding>**

**Last edited on 21.06.2026**

_Dear Timmy,_

(Or do you go by Timothée now? I can't remember the last time I saw you.)

_Thank you for the invitation, it's beautiful, the both of you look beautiful._

But then again, I've never seen you not look beautiful.

_You look happy, I'm so glad you're happy._

I've seen you unhappy too many times, held you through the unhappiness; even caused the unhappiness.

I'm glad that someone has made you happy, I truly am. Yet I will forever regret that it couldn't be me.

Timmy, I just want you to know - I remember everything, every fucking second you were with me.

I remember the way your short curls felt against my neck in Crema, in Elio’s bed, and how it felt like it would last forever – that the universe would make space for us together because it simply had to. I remember the way your long curls felt against my neck in New York, Los Angeles, London, Rome, even Texas as we kept fooling ourselves, kept falling into oblivion.

(God, I’ve tasted your pleasure all around the world and I know I’ll never taste anything better.)

_I see you've cut your hair? It's much shorter on the picture, more mature._ More Timothée and less Timmy? _I'm sorry it's a surprise to me. I'm sorry I haven't kept up with what you're doing._ I wish I could, but I just can't. I miss you too much for it.

I wish I knew how your hair felt against my neck now. Any city will do. I would even visit the afterlife to call you mine for one second more.

Were you ever really mine, though? In my memories you are – I know because I always ask you and you call me a fool for even asking, then kiss me and promise me you’ll always be mine. I already let you slip away in this life, you see; I can’t lose you in my dreams, too.

Do you remember the piano lesson? I dream of that often, Timmy. It was the first time I held you in my arms – you were shy, enthusiastic, perfect. Was it really 10 years ago? It seems like a lifetime ago. _They say time flies by when you're having fun._ I hope the piano lesson feels like yesterday to you.

I remember our first kiss in Crema, only the moon witness to us. You looked ethereal – pale skin glowing in the moonlight after I had carefully removed all of your clothes, covering your body with kisses instead. I can still hear your soft moans, you know? And how you breathed my name when you came? I know you gave yourself to me that night, but I think I gave myself to you, too. And Timmy, I never got myself back.

I remember how thin you were when you filmed Beautiful Boy. I could wrap my two hands around your waist, fingers touching. I loved you even more then, just in case it helped keep you warm and safe.

I remember how you came to my room the day before the Oscars. I remember the tears in your eyes, the fear to disappoint, the closeness you begged me for. I told you I loved you as I slowly rocked into your pliant body on the bed, your legs and hands wrapped around me as if you couldn't get close enough. I told you I loved you then, but you already knew. I tried to show you, instead.

(Fuck, you deserved so much more than hotel beds with white sterile sheets, suitcases still unpacked. We always paid for anonymity – in the end, the price was you, though.)

I remember Texas, just holding you close before the speech, whispering apologies and promises and everything in between. It was supposed to be the Last, we agreed that it would be.

And it was.

And I remember the distance after, the uncertainty and hurt that came with it, the phone calls that were meant for catching up, but we never did catch up, did we? This thing between us - we had already let it slip away and there was no way we could ever catch up with it again.

Maybe it was for the best, I would tell myself. A wife, kids and a family is what I have and I should want no more than that, I would tell myself. It will pass, I would tell myself.

It never did.

Perhaps a part of me died when you left. And with every day you’re not here I feel even less alive.

It's been way over a thousand days, Timmy.

Just so you know, Timmy, I really do remember _everything_. And I love you for each and every second of it.

I'm sorry, this is supposed to be a happy letter. Because it is, after all, for a happy occasion - you're getting married.

Look at you now, baby, how far you've come. You deserve all the good in this world; you deserve a home and a family – things I could never give you. You deserve someone who can love you without guilt and shame, love you without making endless apologies and endless unfulfilled promises.

I have one thing to ask of you, though. I want to make a wish, Timmy. Like I wrote – I remember everything. And the best thing I can wish you today is - don’t.

Please don't remember everything, please don't remember anything.

If you do, then forget, because as long as you remember, or even as long as you want to remember, it will live on in you. And your best chance at happiness is that you forget; please don’t let it live. Instead, it's you who has to live on, and for that to happen, this thing between us, all that we had, simply can't. You need to be happy for the both of us.

Please.

I promise you, Timmy, I promise that I will remember everything.

I will remember for me and for you, keep it alive for another lifetime. It will never die in me, that I can promise.

I know I made you many promises over the years, Timmy. And I know I broke almost as many as I made. I did, in fact, promise to never hurt you. Yet the only thing I ever did was hurt you in the end.

I also promised to take care of you, and I didn’t because what difference does a kind word make when your heart is shattered because of me?

I'm sorry I didn't keep you warm although I promised to. Sometimes, I still wake up in the middle of the night, panicking because my arms are empty, thinking I need to keep you close so you won't be cold. But you're not there at all.

I'm sorry, baby. _I'm sorry_ for everything, I'm sorry I can't stop calling you baby.

I know you think I just forgot. That _I just moved on._ Maybe it's for the best, I tell myself.

_I wish I could be there on your important day, but_ I just can't. It would crush me and it would crush you.

I will be thinking about you, though. Such as I think about you every single day. You could even say that _I have earlier plans_ \- trying to forget you even exist but failing miserably. Trying to lead a life without you in it but failing miserably.

I'm sorry.

I wish I could say _'Congratulations, Timmy!'_ and mean it.

Just know I will forever regret that I can't call you mine.

But I promise to be

_Always yours,_

_Armie_

**_________________  
**

**<Armie Hammer> ** [ **armiehammer@gmail.com** ](mailto:armiehammer@gmail.com)

**<DRAFT: Timmy’s wedding>**

**DRAFT DELETED**

**_________________  
**

**<Armie Hammer> ** [ **armiehammer@gmail.com** ](mailto:armiehammer@gmail.com)

**<SENT TO: ** [ **assistant5@hammerltd.com** ](mailto:assistant5@hammerltd.com)

**SUBJECT: Please print on card, send to Timothée Hal Chalamet (corresp. address in enclosure)**

**DATE: 22.06.2026>**

_Dear Timmy,_

_Thank you for the invitation, it's beautiful, the both of you look beautiful. You look happy, I'm so glad you're happy._

_I see you've cut your hair? It's much shorter on the picture, more mature. I'm sorry it's a surprise to me. I'm sorry_ _ I haven't kept up with what you're doing. They say time flies by when you're having fun._

_I'm sorry_ _ I just moved on._

_I wish I could be there on your important day, but I have_ _ earlier plans._

_Congratulations, Timmy!_

_Always yours,_

_Armie_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, your comments and feedback mean the world to me.
> 
> @workslikeacharmie on tumblr
> 
> PS. I'm sure many of you already noticed, but in case you didn't - all the sentences used in the final letter were included in the version Armie didn't send (in italics). What can I say - I clearly just love to hurt myself.


End file.
